Haba
by Daemith
Summary: Post-Aliyah, because I have nothing better to do between now and September.
1. Teaser

Set Post-Aliyah. Following chapters will be longer, this is the preview.

Disclaimer: If it were mine, one season would start immediately after the other ended, with none of the four month gap bullshit... :D

* * *

"Morning Boss, McGoo, Z-" Tony greeted the team as he swung into his seat, abruptly cutting off the last name as he remembered Ziva's absence.

"Hey Tony." McGee answered, his usual enthusiasm dampened.

Shuffling through a stack of files on his desk, Tony paused at a large folder, marked only with the words "Special Agent DiNozzo" scrawled in black marker. Remembering another mysterious envelope he'd opened, Tony rose from his desk and headed across the room. At his own desk, Gibbs was nose-deep in paperwork, a frown etched across his forehead. In the past few weeks, Tony had realized that the dull, routine desk work was one of Gibbs' coping mechanisms.

"Any idea about this envelope, Boss?" the younger agent asked waving the package toward his team leader.

Seeming to snap out of his auto-pilot paperwork mode, Gibbs looked up. "No." he answered, as concisely as always.

"Feels like a small object, maybe a few." Tony guessed, handing over the file.

Taking the envelope from his agent, Gibbs neatly tore open the top, looking carefully inside. Seeing no threat from the folder, the older agent slowly tilted the file, sliding two small items onto his desk.

Both agents visibly paled instantly. One item was a small, nondescript flash drive.

The other was a simple Star of David necklace. Dried blood was visible on the broken chain.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author notes!**

AKA, stuff I forgot to say before the first chapter/teaser/thing:

- Rating is for violence, because I beat up poor Ziva a bunch; and language, because the dude who's beating her up had a dirty mouth. :) I'd say the rating is pretty much the same as the show, if it changes I'll post a warning.

- I don't speak Hebrew. See end notes for more details. :)

- I'm sure there's something else I meant to say here....

* * *

***

* * *

Pulling a handful of latex gloves from his desk, Gibbs motioned to McGee and DiNozzo. Carefully putting the envelope and the necklace aside, he handed the flash drive to McGee.

"On the plasma."

Fumbling slightly as he hurried to push the device into the computer's USB port, McGee quickly tapped the file up onto the bullpen's plasma screen. The device contained a single video file. With a few more taps, McGee had the grainy, shaky video playing.

"Aww Ziva..." Tony murmured inaudibly.

* * *

_Though sweat-streaked and bearing a ugly bruise across the left cheek, Ziva's face was impassive. Her posture was tense and ready, and she sat straight up in the metal chair she was bound to._

_Heavy footsteps signaled the arrival of two men. Ziva stared at them, her gaze calm and defiant. The first man held a small camcorder, circling around her to give a full view of her position: Thick plastic zip ties bound her hands to the arms of a simple metal chair, biting painfully into her wrists. Dressed in combat pants and a tee-shirt, blood from a shallow bullet wound covered her shoulder._

_Handing the camcorder to his partner, the first man leaned toward her, stroking her hair._

_"It is such a pleasure to meet you, Ziva David" he sneered in heavily-accented English, pronouncing her name wrong. "Shall we begin?"_

_Angrily, Ziva jerked her head away from his hand. "My name is Da-veed," she corrected in an icy tone._

_Her captor laughed. "So full of fire, my little Mossad officer... Mossad bitch..." he taunted. Suddenly, the man pulled back his fist and slammed it into the side of Ziva's face._

_A muffled groan escaped Ziva, and a momentary look of pain flashed across her features, but an instant later, her impassive mask was back in place. Her tormentor smiled, a cruel, mocking grin, and the man holding the camera laughed, zooming in on her bloodied face._

_"So, this is the game we will play," leered the man, circling again as Ziva sat still and stony faced. "We will see how long you last... Believe me, Day-vid, it will not be long enough." he assured her. "And then, when I am done...."_

_Standing behind her, he pulled back on her hair, tracing a line across her bared throat with his forefinger. Then, his hand was around her neck, pressing into the pressure points below her jaw._

_For a moment, the Mossad officer's breathing hitched, dizziness and nausea caused by the pressure point overcame her and fear swept over her. Then her Mossad training took over, she steadied her breath again, her expression blank, the only sign of her distress her clenched hands._

_Releasing his painful grip, Ziva's captor moved around in front of her once again._

_"Good," he declared. Then, suddenly, his fists were flying. Blow after blow pounded Ziva, her face, her stomach. A well-placed hit toppled the chair over, sending her crashing to the ground. As she landed, her weight fell on her immobilized arm, and she stifled a cry of pain as the joint grated horribly._

_Before the young Mossad had a chance to recover, the beating restarted, this time kicks raining into the unprotected areas of her abdomen. With brutal force, her captor stomped on her spayed ankle, and there was an audible crack as the bone broke. A stray kick smashed into her eye socket, crushing the soft skin into her cheekbones._

_After what seemed like hours in which Ziva was surrounded only by the pain and beating, it stopped, leaving her lying awkwardly on the stone floor._

_Grabbing the chair by the back, the man hauled Ziva roughly upright. Her head lolling forward slightly, the captive Mossad struggled to compose herself. Slowly, she raised her head, showing the swollen bloody mass that had been made of her face. Her one good eye was glazed with pain, but her expression was still one of quiet, smoldering defiance._

* * *

As the video cut off, the team remained frozen in horror, then abruptly, Gibbs strode off, making for the Director's office. At the same moment, Director Vance appeared on the balcony.

"Gibbs, I need you in MTAC, now." He ordered.

Changing courses, Gibbs made his way quickly up the stairs and into the communications room. Across the room, the giant screen showed the image of Eli David, Director of Mossad.

"Gibbs," Ziva's father acknowledged tensely.

Not waiting for pleasantries, the former Marine asked bluntly, "What the _hell_ happened?"

"It seems you already know as much as we do." Eli David answered, "How..."

Gibbs held up the necklace in his latex-gloved hand.

_"Elohim ezri ha bat sheli."_ the Director of Mossad murmured, lowering his head. "This was sent to you?"

Gibbs nodded. "To my agent. DiNozzo."

Eli David sighed heavily. "Two weeks ago, Ziva left to continue Rivkin's investigation. I have not heard from her for four days. A contact in the area told us a man had seen a person of her description being put in a truck, unconscious. We suspected she had been captured, and have been trying to trace her, but there are no leads. This is all we know."

"You have a location? Anything?" Gibbs questioned further.

There was no answerer, and Gibbs caught the flash of gazes between the two directors. _"What?"_ he demanded.

"We suspect Somalia," Vance answered reluctantly, "We have the area where their camp is located narrowed down to 100 mile radius."

"Leon, I must be going," Eli David cut in, "Shalom, my friend."

"Shalom, Eli." Vance answered, motioning to the controller to cut the feed.

Raising a hand as Gibbs began to talk, Vance glared at his agent.

"My office."

* * *

***

* * *

What Eli David says is (hopefully): "God help my daughter", however, I have really no idea how correct this is since I have an extremely limited knowledge of Hebrew, and most online translators are in Hebrew script, rather than romanized characters, and Hebrew script is crazy-hard to learn to read, and also verb conjugations are ridiculously difficult. Anyway, that's my list of excuses. If anyone can help me here, that would be much appreciated. Also, anyone know how to swear in Arabic? :D (Bababum, teaser, sorta!)

There really are pressure points on your neck, and yes, they really do hurt like hell and make you feel nauseous. The internet is a wonderful thing, is it not, my pretties? ;)

Thanks to my first reviewers: suchrandomness, Jess, Liz, Ditte3, M E Wofford, and PirateKnightoftheRings! You have make me happy. Web-hugs to you. :)


	3. Chapter 2

Helloooo my pretties! Chapter 3 or 2 or something is up! In which: I torture poor ole Ziva some more, and Gibbs is pissed.

On which subject, I'd just like you all to know that writing Gibbs vs. Vance is HARD! Actually, writing Gibbs is hard in general, since about 80% of his communication is nonverbal... I'm afraid you guys'll just have to use your imaginations. (Oh noes, imagination!)

That said, hope you enjoy the chapter!

Ooooh, and before I forget, the rest of the stuff I keep forgetting to say:

- "Haba" means "next" in Hebrew (or so says the internet translator....) which refers to this being what happens next after Aliyah. No, I couldn't think of a better title, but as long as I keep writing the story, who really gives a crap? :)

- This is and isn't Tiva. It is because I see Tiva as something that's eventually going to happen, and in my mind it plays a significant role in this whole shenanigan. It isn't because I'm not really a squishy-huggy-gushy romance type of person, and would make a total mess if I tried to write that way. So I won't. Deal.

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to my cat, Hamish, who sat on my lap and made me write this chapter. :D Thanks man, you da best. Extra tuna for you tonight.

Also, thanks again to all my reviewers, favers, alerters, and readers! This story has gotten more hits, reviews, faves, and alerts in its first day up than any of my other really old (crappy) stories! NCIS foevah, yo. :)

* * *

***

* * *

Ziva sat slumped in her chair, her chin resting on her chest. Since the last beating, she'd slept fitfully, waking up with her injuries stiff and sore, her left eye swollen so badly she couldn't open it. Her head was pounding with a vicious ache, no doubt due to dehydration.

The door grated open. Ziva didn't bother to raise her head, but from the footsteps, she could tell it was the first man, alone this time. He took a last draw of his cigarette before grinding it out on the floor in front of her.

Reaching out, the man pulled the Star of David necklace from her neck, neatly yanking it off. Silently Ziva cursed him - her father had given her that necklace. After contemplating it for a moment, her captor grabbed the back of her head by the hair, jerking it so she faced him. The Mossad officer moaned slightly, but stared unflinchingly at her tormentor through her one good eye.

"Tell me everything you know... About NCIS," he asked contemptuously, leaning his head close to hers so that she could smell the smoke on his breath.

Though she did not allow it to reach her face, Ziva was surprised. She had suspected to be questioned about Mossad, but not NCIS. _NCIS..._ The agency's very name brought charged memories to her mind... Gibbs, Ari, the basement... McGee and Abby. Tony.

_Tony._ What was the last thing she said to him? She couldn't remember. She'd nearly shot him... Damn, Tony. Did he know, she wondered, that she hadn't meant any of it?

Her mind snapping back to the present as the man shook her head roughly. Suddenly, a flash of anger awakened in her. How _dare_ this man, who knew nothing about these people, her friends, her family, how dare he question her about them? Summoning the last traces of moisture to her mouth, (most of it, Ziva realized, was blood), the captive Mossad spat in his face.

"I have _nothing_ to tell you of NCIS," she hissed with as much force as she could muster.

Ziva knew she'd made a mistake as soon as she did it. Never antagonize your captor, her father had taught her. Yet the part of her that was not Mossad, the part of her loyal to NCIS and Gibbs was triumphant. As her captor swore violently in Arabic and let go of her hair to wipe the spit and blood from his cheek, Ziva let loose a halting laugh.

Still cursing, the man slapped her hard across the face, smashing her already ruined left cheekbone into the back of the chair as her head snapped around. He then grabbed Ziva's throat, cutting off her air supply and holding her immobilized. With his right hand, he tucked the star necklace into a pocket, then drew from his belt a long, serrated knife.

"You _ever_ do that again," he threatened, "and I will kill you, slowly. I will video you as you scream in pain, and I will send that video to your precious friends at NCIS."

Her air supply gone, Ziva's new resolve still gave her courage. "And- I'm to... Think y'on't do that 'nway?" she choked.

This only served to further anger her captor. Shoving her head back, he loosed his strangle hold, drawing back his fist and punching her hard in the lower ribs. Already broken bones crunched under her skin, and Ziva cried out briefly, only to fall silent again. The hit hurt, badly, but it was a small price for the satisfaction Ziva gained from angering him. _She was in control now._

Seeming to realize this, Ziva's tormentor stepped back, regaining his composition. "I do not know if you are crazy, or stupid." he snarled. "Probably both, since you are an Israeli bitch," he insulted her, adjusting his keffiyah. "Think hard about what you have to say." he ordered, before walking heavily to the ancient-looking door and exiting.

Alone again, Ziva's adrenaline left her, leaving her exhausted, nauseous, and overwhelmed by pain. Closing her eyes, she slowly drew herself inward to the safety of her mind, shutting out her surroundings as she had been trained to do. Her captor was using techniques she knew, ones she had learned to resist, and she had used on other prisoners. Dehydration, immobilization, beatings. She had suffered these before. The worst, she knew with certainty, was yet to come.

-----

Striding angrily through the balcony, NCIS Special Agent Gibbs beat the Director to his own office. Following him into the room, Vance gestured to a chair, sitting down behind his own desk.

"Sit, Jethro," he suggested sternly.

After a moment's pause, the agent did as he was told, sitting in the chair.

"Gibbs, I know what you're thinking-" Vance began.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, making a "do-you-really-now?" expression.

Vance sighed. 'Handling Gibbs' was undoubtedly the most difficult part of his job. "Listen to me Jethro. I don't want this. But I will _not_ have you jeopardize this agency to attempt some crazy rescue mission for a former team member."

"Yeah, well you'd know all about crazy missions, wouldn't you, you and your buddy Eli?" the agent accused angrily.

"Gibbs-" Vance began, only to be cut off again by his top agent.

"My vacation time. I'm using it now," he announced.

"You need to give notice-" the Director protested, only to be interrupted again.

"Then I'm taking a goddamn sick day!" Gibbs practically yelled, getting up from the chair and sweeping out of the room.

----

Reentering the bullpen, Gibbs gestured to DiNozzo, while sitting down at his desk and rummaging through his drawers.

"Uh, not much boss... Mossad reported her missing-"

"-Four days ago," came Gibbs' voice from inside his desk.

Tony took the input in stride, by now he didn't bother to question his boss's uncanny ability to finish his reports. "Yeah, and a witness reports seeing a person of her description being pushed into a black SUV in Berder Cassim, Somalia"

McGee picked up from where Tony left off: "The area the terrorist camp is located in is narrowed down to a-"

"-100 mile radius-"

"Er, yeah," McGee nodded, rattling off a set of coordinates.

Emerging from under his desk, Gibbs opened the drawer containing his gun and badge. Holstering his weapon, the agent picked up his badge, then after a moment, put it back in the drawer and slammed it shut. "DiNozzo!"

"Yeaboss?" Tony answered hurriedly, looking up abruptly.

"Pack your bags. Bring a toothbrush." Gibbs ordered.

Perking up immediately, the younger agent asked excitedly "We're going to get Ziva?"

"Nah," Gibbs answered, heading for the door, "You and I are going on vacation. Somalia sound like fun?"

* * *

***

* * *

Mwahaha, Gibbs is going on vacation!

I would imagine Gibbs hasn't used any vacation time since he first joined NCIS, and therefore had a fair amount amassed for him to use now.

Keffiyah- from wikipedia: "a traditional headdress typically worn by Arab men made of a square of cloth ("scarf"), usually cotton, folded and wrapped in various styles around the head."

AKA, the thing the guy at the end of the episode is wearing around his neck.

On a slightly random note, here's something interesting I found poking around on the internet: The guy playing the guy (confusing much?) who's torturing Zee is Omid Abtahi, who plays a terrorist called Salim on another TV show; "Sleeper Cell: American Terror".

Go figure. :)

On a COMPLETELY random note, go watch "Drinking Out of Cups" on YouTube. Funniest. Thing. Ever. (With the exception maybe of Charlie the Unicorn, They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard, and the Numa Numa Guy. I can't choose.)


	4. Chapter 3

Notttteeeeesss!

Sorry for the kinda long wait... The end of school is fast approaching, and finals loom. In other words, I've been holycrapbusy for a while. I'm still writing... Just slower. This was also a harder chapter to write, since now we come to that sketchy point in the story where I have to try and think of an at least somewhat credible way of NCIS tracking down in a couple days a terrorist cell that Mossad has been trying to find for months, if not years... I'm not all that happy with this aspect of the story, but oh well. :/

Also, as has been pointed out to me, the scene were the team get Ziva's necklace appears before the scene where nasty-man rips it off her neck. Ummm.... Oops. :) Guess my timeline's a little hinky. Basically, scene one with Ziva takes place a day before scene two of Ziva, shortly after which the video and necklace would've been shipped off to the team. Which means both Ziva-scenes took place before the parts of the story with the team. Of course, unless that nasty bastard Eli David is lying through his teeth, (I don't like him much- can you tell?) then that means the package got from Somalia to NCIS in less that three days, which seems somewhat unlikely... Ah well. Hopefully the timeline's back on track now.... :P

The more I write, the more I think of things I'd like to change in previous chapters... Not to much to do about that now, but I'll probably edit the whole thing and repost after I've finished writing. So, if you guys could consider this a rough draft and maybe give some feedback or point out any errors, that'd be great. :D

Alrighty then, nuff rambling from me!

* * *

***

* * *

The man who entered the door this time was not Ziva's tormentor. A guard, or some other subordinate, she supposed. Crossing the floor to her, he gripped her lower jaw roughly, forcing her mouth open before pouring water down her throat.

Ordinarily, Ziva would've been strongly tempted to fight him, spit the water back in his face, but as it was, she knew better. Since her capture, she'd been given barely enough water to keep her alive, and for the last three days, she'd been left completely alone. Her head pounded with a pulse that sent waves of nausea through her. Even despite her injuries, she doubted her ability to stand. She could only imagine what she looked like...

This in mind, the Israeli temporarily swallowed her pride, and the water. When the cup was empty, the guard exited without a word. Moments later, the door grated open again, and her previous tormentor entered.

"Miss me?" he sneered, puffing cigarette smoke in his face.

"Like a dog misses fleas," Ziva croaked, yet unable to resist the satisfaction of the sarcastic retort. She got that idiom right, the Mossad officer thought with a flash of satisfaction. Tony would be proud.

However, for all her defiance, the torture, dehydration, and isolation had taken their toll on her mind. During her three days isolation, she'd began hallucinating- images of her father, Gibbs. They would stand in the corners of her prison, their gazes stern and accusing. Michael and Tony would stand in front of her, side by side, asking her to choose. Ari, asking her why she'd killed him. She knew the visions were not real, but that didn't make their anger much more bearable.

Her captor grinned tensely. "Still so much fire, Officer Day-vid," he remarked, intentionally mispronouncing her name once again, "And there I thought we were getting somewhere."

Casually, he pressed his cigarette to her cheek, grinding its tip into her flesh so that Ziva felt like a hole was being burned through the skin. It took all her strength of will, but she stayed stock-still, yet determined not to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her squirm.

She wouldn't be able to keep up her pretense much longer, though.

Dropping the cigarette butt into her lap absently, the man moved behind Ziva, out of her line of vision. Another technique she knew. The Israeli did not react, keeping her gaze firmly on the ground in front of her.

"You could be pretty," her captor observed, stroking her hair, "Were you not in this... Distasteful state. For that, I give you another chance. Tell me about you precious American friends."

Ziva ignored him. Things were obviously about to get rough again, and God knew she needed her strength.

The man moved back around her, kneeling to her left. He took her hand, tenderly holding it.

"Such a shame," he lamented in a voice of fake disappointment.

He dislocated her thumb, and Ziva cried out. Without pause, her tormentor moved on to her index finger, systematically removing the joints from their sockets. When he had finished with her hand, he looked up. The Mossad officer was gasping in pain, Ziva fought to steady her breathing. In the back of her head, she remembered a conversation she'd had with Tony: _"I vowed never to be captured alive."_ She wished she'd been able to keep her word.

"Come on," her captor tempted, squeezing her hand so that her joints grated and jarred. Ziva screamed again, past caring for her pride. "It does not had to be so hard," he told her, "What do you owe NCIS? They left you. You were never one of them," he convinced her, but even weakened and in pain Ziva would not believe him. She could not allow herself doubt, that was what he wanted.

"Everything," she rasped nearly inaudibly, "I owe them everything."

* * *

Tony had to admit, he hadn't known there even were commercial flights to Somalia, but amazingly, only five hours since opening the package, here he was en route to Africa with Ethiopian Airways. He really wondered at times if Gibbs was, as Abby believed, magic.

It was a quiet flight. The plane was next to empty, and Gibbs slept almost the entire trip, as usual. Tony just sat, looking out the window and wondering if he was all to blame.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs' voice snapped him out of his gloomy meditation. How the hell did he read his mind, even when he was _asleep,_ for God's sakes?

"Stop blaming yourself," Gibbs ordered brusquely as always.

Tony glanced miserably at the floor. "If I hadn't... She'd still be here," he pointed out.

"Maybe," Gibbs acknowledged, "Or maybe not. The whole thing was rotten DiNozzo, the boards were gonna break sometime."

"I screwed up!" Tony berated, his voice angry. "I stuck my nose in, and screwed everything up, and now she's gone!"

Tony wasn't sure what he'd been expecting from Gibbs, but the slap to the back of the head somehow made him feel better. "You listen here Tony," Gibbs commanded forcefully, "I _ordered_ you to keep an eye on her. You sayin' I screwed it? You watch your partner's six. You can finish whining when we've got her ass _out _of here."

Tony nodded. Gibbs _was _right, and as usual, his head-slaps and unsympathetic lectures were what got that through to younger agent.

"That clear, DiNozzo?"

"Crystal, boss."

------

"I knew Gibbs shouldn't've left her in Israel! Something like this always happens, now Ziva's in trouble and Tony and Gibbs are heading for it and we're stuck back here waiting to see what happens and if they're OK and if-" Abby ranted almost hysterically.

"Abby!" McGee cut it. "The best thing you can do for them right now is get in touch with your NASA friend."

"Right," Abby, answered taking a deep breath. "NASA, satellite, focus Abby..." she tapped furiously at her keyboard. Moments later, a webcam window popped up on her screen.

"Hey Abby!" the man greeted her, "How's it going?"

"Hi Ashton," Abby replied hurriedly, "Actually, not so great, a got a friend in trouble."

"And you want to use the satellite?" Abby's ex-boyfriend inferred. "Not much going on here. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks Ash! You are a wonderful person." Abby proclaimed. "Can you get us a look a Somalia?"

The satellite technician frowned in surprise. "That must be one shitload of trouble your friend's in."

"You have no idea," Abby confessed worriedly, "She was tracking a terrorist cell-"

"Um, Abby?" McGee cut in. He was pretty sure this wasn't exactly supposed to be common knowledge.

"OK, OK," Abby answered, going back to tapping at her computer.

"You didn't use satellites to find the cell in the first place?" Ashton asked Abby.

"Well, it wasn't really our op..." Abby confessed, "I guess Mossad didn't have access to technology like this."

Abby's friend raised his eyebrows. "Mossa- Never mind. I'm just going to stop asking," he decided, going back to tapping at his computer.

* * *

As soon as the flight landed, Gibbs dispatched Tony to find coffee, while he "made a call or two". After returning with two steaming cups of liquid and a paper bag of squished pastries, the younger agents settled on the airport seats and listened to his boss's conversation. So Gibbs had contacts in Somalia, too? The surprises never ended.

"Yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah, well, I've been told. No. Promise. No, I can't. It's important. Sure. Sure, no prob. OK. Yeah, I owe you one. Whatever. Thanks." Gibbs snapped the phone shut, deftly swiping a coffee, as well as the croissant Tony had been about to bite into.

"You're welcome, Boss." Tony grumbled good-naturedly, retrieving another croissant from his bag.

After taking a couple of swigs of his coffee, Gibbs opened his phone again, holding down a number of the speed dial.

"Abs. Whacha got?" he asked, cutting right to the chase.

"Gibbs!" the forensic scientist's squeal was loud enough for Tony to hear. "How's it going? Everything OK? Tony's good too, right?"

"Abby, we haven't even left the airport." Gibbs chuckled.

"Well, a lot can happen on a plane, boss-man. Remember that time when Air Force One sorta-almost got hijacked until you saved everyone? Anyway, you know how Tony gets in to trouble." Abby justified herself in a single breath.

The supervising agent had to admit she had a point about Tony. "Tell me what you have, Abs," he demanded.

"Well, right now, not a lot." Abby admitted, "But we're scanning every nook and cranny of Somalia with that satellite, and as soon as we find anything, you'll be the first to know," she assured him. "Well, actually McGee will, since he's helping me, and obviously there's me... But you'll be the third!" Abby clarified. "Anyways, speaking of McGee..."

"Hi boss," McGee's voice came in over the phone. "So I, uh, gained access to some files Mossad had on the op, and I have a possible ID on one of the terrorists. His name is Nazih Kadur, also known as Rahim Abdullah. I emailed you everything I have on him." McGee reported.

"That's a good job, McGee." Gibbs praised his agent. "Call me when you get anything else. Tony!" Gibbs got the attention of his senior field agent. "C'mon," he ordered, rising and heading for the airport exit.

* * *

***

* * *

Ethiopian Airways really does do flights to Somalia. PM me if you want to join me on my Ziva rescue mission. We leave next Wednesday. :D

Ah if only....


End file.
